OBT Forum

Well that was pointless!

Lt. Colonel Carlos Watannabe sprang to his feet and saluted at Aleksandyr Kerensky was wheeled into the pre-fabricated building that served as the Command Headquarters for Eighth Army.  “Sir!” he snapped.  “I was told that you requested my presence, Sir!”

“At ease, Colonel,” Aleksandyr rumbled.  He examined the maps before him with a frown.  “Colonel Watannabe—Third and Eighth Army are heavily engaged with the Rim Forces to the west, but their sheer weight of numbers is pushing us back, towards the city.  For your regiment of mechanized infantry I have a special assignment.  I want you to proceed to Moscow, posthaste, and locate a small group of civilians.  They should be here,” he said, pointing to a neighborhood on the outskirts of Moscow.  “It is very important that these civilians be recovered and returned here—unharmed, Colonel.  Two of them will be young boys, the oldest just now seven and the youngest having turned five.  Their mother will be the third person.”

“Understood, Sir.  Who are these people?  If I may ask?”

“The woman is Katyusha Kerensky—my wife, Colonel.  The boys are Andery and Nicholas, and they are my sons.”

“Your . . . of course, General!  I’ll get them out safely!”

“Of that, Colonel, I have no doubt.”

*****************************************************

The streets of Moscow were chaotic, as small groups of Rim World fanatics tried to stem the tide of defeat.  The more pragmatic had thrown away their weapons and uniforms and melted into the mass of humanity trying to flee the burning city.  Carlos had been shocked by the lack of order in one of the major cities of Terra.  But the longer that he considered it, the more convinced he became that he should have expected little else.  Of course, Amaris’s security services had disbanded the local police and constabulary—they trusted no one else to bear weapons.  They had gutted the local broadcast stations, and now all that the populace knew was that fires were raging and they could hear explosions in the distance.  And, as certain as the tide of the ocean, panic had set in.

Twice already, he had been forced to open fire over the heads of the refugees who pounded on the sides of his infantry carriers and tanks, begging him to take them to safety.  But the horde had thinned at last, and now Carlos blanched as he saw the burnt out shells of buildings in the neighbor the General had told him housed his own family.

“Wolfpack Actual to all Wolfpack elements,” he spoke into the boom microphone he wore.  “Dismount infantry and conduct a grid search by squads.  Locate all survivors.  Rules of Engagement Bravo Two are now in effect.”

Under ROE-B2, the troopers of the Timber Wolf Regiment (the 2743rd Royal Mechanized Infantry Regiment) were authorized to fire only if fired upon.  It was the most restrictive ROE that that the young Colonel felt he could in conscience allow, yet he remained all too aware of the possibility of civilians being caught in any crossfire, but he pushed those thoughts aside and forced himself back to the moment at hand.  “Battalion surgeons, establish your MASH in the square, HQ security detail form a perimeter.”

*****************************************************

“Colonel,” the RSM called from outside the lowered ramp of the command carrier.  “These civilians say they know where the woman and children are holed up, Sir.  But they won’t tell us unless we agree to transport them and their families to safety.”

Carlos nodded.  “Agreed, get them loaded.  Now where are they?”

A grimy, disheveled man raised one arm and barked out a long string of Russian.  A younger woman—no less dirty and shell-shocked—translated.  “The agricultural school, three blocks that way.  It has a bomb shelter in the basement.  That is where Katyusha took her boys when the shelling stopped.”

“Thank you,” the Colonel whispered.  “Sergeant Major, get these people medical attention and hot food.”  And get them the hell out of my vehicle.  He snapped a thumb switch on the radio control attached to his belt.  “Max, we’re moving out, three blocks due east, look for anything that resembles a school—an agriculture school.”

*****************************************************
Carlos shook his head; the building had taken a direct shell hit and half of it was a burnt out ruin, but he had infantry teams making their way to the basement now.  He wanted to be in there with his men, but his place was here.  And truthfully, it was a job far more suited for a twenty-year old trooper than the forty-year old Colonel.

Suddenly the static on his earpiece cleared.  “Wolfpack Seven-Three-Gamma to Wolfpack Actual.  Packages retrieved—condition unbroken.  Extricating now.”

Carlos let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and sat back with a smile on his face.

Just one more chapter and the epilogue and the story will finally be complete, at long last.

Master Arminas

Interesting. Nicky comes across as the younger child but of course in canon he's the elder of the two boys.

Is that a deliberate change or am I misunderstanding something? Brain damage perhaps?

Chapter Twenty

November 9, 2768
Western Slopes of the Cascade Range
North America
Empire of Amaris (Terran Hegemony)

“Gently, gentlemen, gently,” Antonius whispered to the former linebackers as they brushed aside the dirt covering one of Amaris’s nuclear mines.  “This is no mere firecracker, my friends.”

Vince turned to glare at the former Blackheart, as Bernie scowled.  “I still can’t believe you talked us into this.  Sneaking past the Rim World lines and digging up a nuke.”

Antonius smiled.  “Oh come, now, Bernie.  You were as excited as the prospect as a freshman cheerleader asked to the prom by the star quarterback.  Besides, I can think of several much more appropriate places for this munition than here in the middle of this pass, can’t you?”

“Yes, but what if they booby-trapped it?”

“Vince, Vince, Vince, of course they booby-trapped it.”

Both of the guerillas suddenly stopped digging and stared at Zalman.

“I am a specialist, however.  Just don’t jostle it too much.”

“Liz would have a cow,” whispered Bernie was the two began to sweep away the soil against, slower this time.

“Dear sweet, Liz, of course she would!  I imagine she would rather we just disable the nuke than move it.”

“Could you do that?”

“Bernie, where is the fun in that?”

Vince stopped digging.  “I think I found the outer casing, Antonius.”

The spry old man dropped down into the hole and carefully brushed aside the dirt.  And then he smiled.  “Yes, yes you have.  Hand me that tool bag.”

Taking a paint brush, the special agent began to slowly and carefully brush aside dirt until a  small access door was revealed.  He reached into the bag and took out several tools, and within minutes he had removed the panel, and was reaching into the internal mechanism of the bomb.  Several minutes more, and he sat back, holding a strange looking device.

“And that, gentlemen, is a laser initiation system for the Mark Eleven tactical nuclear demolition munition.  The weapon is quite safe, now.  Let’s bundle it up and be on our way.”

“Exactly how heavy is this thing?” asked Vince as he glared at the slimmer, dapper special agent.

“Heavy enough that I am so glad the two of you volunteered,” said Antonius with a grin.  “Come, my beasts of burden!  We have miles to travel before we are done for the evening.  And I need three more of these firecrackers, so on to the next site, we go.”


November 10, 2768
Imperial Palace
Unity City, North America
Empire of Amaris (Terran Hegemony)

 â€œGunthar, his Majesty has gone around the bend,” Brigadier Augustus Talbot whispered.  “It is time to think about preserving ourselves.”

Four other high-ranking Internal Security officers nodded their agreement, and Gunthar slowly added his own.  “What do you propose, then, Augustus?”

“We have already prepared a cargo submersible at the Bremerton docks.  The ship has a full crew and supplies to remain submerged for up to three years.  We will slip quietly out into the Pacific and wait for the furor to end.  Then we will land somewhere and get passage off-world.  There are many places in the Periphery where a man can leave his past behind.”

Another officer spoke up.  “We might not even have to abandon the Inner Sphere, Gunthar.  Men of skills are always needed, no matter how much our employers might publically disdain our methods.”

“Mercenaries,” Gunthar said with a snarl, “we should become mercenaries and abandon Stefan.  That is what you are saying.”

“Stefan is a dead man, Gunthar.  We know it and you know it.  This is our chance at not dying alongside him.  Join us—there is room on the sub for you.”

“You are all set on this course?”

The officers nodded their affirmation.

“I cannot, literally cannot abandon Stefan, gentlemen.  And as for you,” Gunthar suddenly drew his pistol and shot Talbot in the chest, as IntSec guards swarmed into the room.  “You are traitors to the cause.  Take them out and shoot them,” he told the guards.

After the protesting officers were hustled from the room, Stefan Amaris walked in, causing Gunthar to snap to attention.  “My Lord,” he said with a deep bow.  “I had thought not to disturb you with this—housecleaning.”

Stefan smiled.  “Don’t worry about me, Gunthar.  I have been fully aware of what these officers have plotted for some time.  Why do you think I publically asked for Kraal and Daragou?  To draw out those who are not true-believers in our Empire.”

“You pretended, Sire?”

“I even fooled you, I see.  No Gunthar, I remember well Luis Kraal’s screams after your threw him into the fish tank.  And I am pleased that even in such circumstances, YOU my friend, remained true to me.  Still, the traitors have a point:  we cannot stop the Star League now.  But I think that submarine will be best served by conveying you, I, and my family to safety.  Not these fools.”

“I understand, my Lord.  I shall make the preparations at once.”

“Carefully, Gunthar.  We must wait for the right moment—too soon and these fools will surrender and fail to cover our retreat.  Kerensky must believe that we are both dead if we are to escape and rebuild our fortunes.”

“Yes, Sire.”

“And who knows?  Perhaps these imbeciles might stop Kerensky from crossing the Cascades.  His casualties will be extreme and I am loved by my people, after all.  They might stop his advance.”

And the horse might learn to sing, thought Gunthar.  But he only said, “By your will, my master.”

You know, I never said which one was the older!  Take it however you want.   

Master Arminas

Ending!?!?!?! No!!!!

Seriously though this is one of the best stories I've read in a long time, I really enjoy your writing and hate to see it come to an end, I share Takiro's sentiment hoping you continue on in the timeline.